


The Most Awkward Angel in the Garrison

by TheNonBinaryBard



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNonBinaryBard/pseuds/TheNonBinaryBard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas can't kiss. Dean's insecure. This isn't news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Awkward Angel in the Garrison

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Jensen & Misha at JIBcon 2014](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/69099) by http://elsiecat.livejournal.com/. 



> This now has a podfic by the lovely litra!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2462609

It had been a long time coming, but not in his wildest dreams could Dean have predicted it to happen like this.

Dean was sitting at the tiny table of the motel room, reading a newspaper and pretending to research some bogus little case that Sam had insisted was worth spending a week in this shit-hole tiny town for. Cas was sitting on the arm of the couch with his arms folded, his trench coat hanging on the coat rack beside the door.

Frankly, it was making Dean uncomfortable.

"Cas, stop staring at me," he finally snapped, turning to look at the man.

Cas furrowed his brow. “I am not staring at you.”

Dean sighed and turned back to the paper. “Well, you’re not helping,” he grumbled under his breath. There was no response from the angel.

Silence reigned in the motel room. It stretched on for several minutes as Dean tried in vain to focus on his work. Suddenly, he gave an exasperated sigh and slammed the paper down on the table, rubbing his hand across his forehead. 

"Cas, if you’re going to be here, you should come help with this crap." He held the paper out and smacked it, letting it drop in disgust. The sound of Cas walking across the room accompanied Dean’s complaints: "I don’t see what Sam is seeing —"

He froze mid-sentence. Cas had grabbed one side of his face and pressed his lips — no, his whole face — suddenly against Dean’s left cheek.

"Um…Cas buddy, what are you doing?"

Cas’s voice came muffled, “Kissing you.”

"Cas, no." Dean’s shoulders slumped a little and Cas pulled back suddenly.

"But I am expressing my affection for you!" he insisted. 

Dean studied him, the other man’s face looking quite confused and hurt. Cas tensed and, out of fear the angel would disappear, Dean cleared his throat and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Cas, dude…that’s not how you do it.”

 _Man, why now?_  Dean thought. Well, why not? He’d certainly thought about it himself. The tension in the room was sickening, but most of the hurt had gone out of Cas’s face and Dean was left to squirm under the confused blue eyes of the most awkward angel in the garrison.

Finally, Cas spoke. “Well, then how…?”

Dean cut him off, waving him over. “Just…try it again, ‘kay?”

Cas took a settling breath and recovered the quick steps he had retreated, quickly smooshing his face against Dean’s again. Dean failed to suppress a soft chuckle and tried to turn his face. “Cas, buddy, loosen your grip.”

Muffled, Cas muttered, “Sorry,” and complied. As he did, Dean turned his head and met Cas’s puckered lips with his open mouth and couldn’t help his laugh. 

Cas pulled back again, but left his hands on Dean’s shoulders as he frowned. “This isn’t funny, Dean.”

Dean forced a cough to stop laughing and shook his head muttering, “Yeah, no, you’re right, here,” as he stood up and stepped closer to Cas. 

His hands had been sweating since he had felt Cas’s eyes on him, but the sheer awkwardness of the whole situation had relaxed the hunter considerably and he was intent on showing Cas how to kiss properly. He placed his hands on the angel’s face and froze for a moment as he registered Cas’s discomfort. 

"What?"

"Your hands are cold," Cas muttered.

"Yeah, well, you need to watch more TV," Dean snarked back.

Dean smirked as Cas opened his mouth to retort, thinking,  _There we go!_

The hunter caught the angel’s mouth with his own, feeling satisfaction at the mild shock in Cas’s eyes before closing his own and breathing a relieved sigh through his nose as he dedicated himself to a slow, sweet kiss. Cas relaxed a bit, his hands slipping from Dean’s shoulders, down his chest. His hands shook a little as they reach his hips, his celestial senses overwhelmed by the sheer amount of just…Dean. His flannel shirt, the top of his jeans, the seam of his pockets over the form of his hips, the strength in his muscles, the smell of his skin, the feeling of his scratchy stubble, his soft lips, his warm, wet tongue…

But then the hunter pulled back from the kiss, his smirk tempered with a tentative, affectionate softness. “Dude, you have to kiss back.”

Cas blinked and assessed the situation, trying to find his ground, noting the bed, the locked door, the soft blue-ish sunlight of morning slipping through the off-white curtains, the musty smell of the cheap motel. There stood a warrior of God, off-balance and trying to find ground while his head swam in the rise of his affection of this, the Righteous Man, but Dean pulled him in again. Cas could feel the tension in his form ease as he tried to mimic the pattern of Dean’s tongue. 

Dean however, was growing uneasy. He was wound up, strung as tight as a guitar string and nearly feeling ready to break. He had noticed Cas’s attention wander when he had broken away to speak and he silently cursed himself for ever taking his mouth off of him…or for even fucking starting this. He should have fucking brushed it off. He couldn’t believe himself. He had let himself be vulnerable — with CAS, no less, Mr. “I’m an Angel of the Lord, boy. I raised you from perdition, I can put you back.”

Too long. His guard had been down for too long. Yes, for mere minutes, but the paranoid ticking of what’s-going-to-go-wrong had started reeling in the back of his mind. Sam was going to walk in. Something was going to go wrong. Someone was watching, something knew, and now they could use Cas against him.

 _Stop it. Chill,_ he admonished himself. His kiss grew rougher as he desperately tried to salvage the moment, but he broke it off abruptly when Cas’s grip on his hips tightened and tried to pull him closer.  _Nope! Shit. I can’t do this._ _Not with Cas. We need him. Fuck._

Dean took a moment of reeling, stepping half a step back and looking down at the space between them; the angel’s hands on his hips, his ears burning hot. “Just, ah, for reference,” he muttered, taking Cas’s forearms in his hands. He gripped them tight with affection for a moment before gently pushing him away.

The two men stared intensely at one another for a few moments, flush, tense, like they had stared at one another before, but this time laced with a different flavour of the same affection. 

"…Dean," Cas started, but upon the sound of his voice, the insecurity in Dean snapped and he turned, snatching his leather jacket from the back of the chair he had occupied before all this shit started. 

"I’m gonna go see where Sam got off to," he muttered gruffly, pulling the coat on with his back turned.

Cas felt as though he was sinking into the floor as he watched Dean pull his keys out of his pocket. The hunter threw them into the air and caught them again, a nervous habit, muttering something about, “seeing if we would be ganking any creepy-crawlies today,”  before disappearing out the door without so much as a look back to Cas.

The Impala purred as it was turned over outside and the sound of it roaring out of the gravel parking lot accompanied Sam walking into the room. 

The taller of the Winchester brothers walked in looking innocent and confused, his attention on the direction Dean had driven off to. He had started to say, “Where is Dean —” but the devastated look on Cas’s face stopped him short. 

"Um…" Sam started, glancing back out of the door before closing it.

Cas took a breath, composing himself before Sam fully turned his attention to the angel; subtly straightening his posture and returning his face to neutral.

"Did you two have a fight or something?" Sam asked, setting the groceries down on top of the paper Dean had abandoned on the table. 

Cas sighed. “Just the opposite.” With that, the angel was gone, leaving Sam alone in the motel. 

Sam was silent for a whole minute. He easily put two and two together within a couple of seconds and spend the other 58 seconds feeling bad for the star-crossed dipshits.

Then he was aggravated, resigning himself to huffily making himself some cereal. Yeah guys, just have fucking temper tantrums because you can’t reconcile your stupid mutual crush. Not like people are dying or anything.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Most Awkward Angel in the Garrison [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2462609) by [litrapod (litra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litrapod)




End file.
